A Push
by lord of the land of fire
Summary: Sansa takes one small action that will have many unseen consequences.
1. A Push

They were standing on the battlements; Sansa, Joffrey, Sandor Clegane, and Ser Meryn Trant. Joffrey had brought her here to force her to look on her father's head.

_He is only doing this to hurt me,_ Sansa realized. _He is a monster._

How had she ever thought she was in love with him? He was vile and horrid, like some creature from a tale. The sort the hero always slew. She glanced at Clegane and Ser Meryn. There were no heroes here.

_So who will kill this monster? Who will avenge my father?_

"Are you listening to me you stupid girl? Shall I have Ser Meryn give you another lesson?" Joffrey was standing right in front of her, his lips pulled tight.

"I beg pardon your grace. What was it you were saying?"

To her left was the parapet where the heads had been mounted. To her right was nothing but empty space and a drop of seventy feet or so to a stone courtyard. An odd calmness filled her. Perhaps it was an understanding that this torment would never end, that she would never be allowed to escape. Perhaps it was the Stark blood calling out to her. Or perhaps it was no more than a madness brought on by despair.

In any case she was not afraid.

"I said I am going to raise a mighty host and kill your traitor brother myself. That will be my gift to you, I will give you your traitor brother's head."

"No," Sansa said with complete calmness. "I will give him yours."

She pushed him. With both hands she shoved his chest, knocking him back and off balance. His hands flailed about as he stumbled over the walkway's edge. Sansa saw the look of terror on his face just as he went over. For that one flicker of time he seemed ordinary to her. Not a king, not a monster, but just a boy who was afraid.

As he fell he gave a wordless cry, a shriek that sounded like a girl's. When he landed there was a crunch, and Sansa thought she heard a sob. Blood began to pool around him and from below there were screams and shouts from others. Men in gold cloaks and folk in ordinary livery ran to the spot where Joffrey had landed. Sansa simply stood there and watched. There was no point in trying to escape. She just looked down at what she had wrought.

She felt Sandor grab her arm and wrench her about. "What have you done little bird?" He hissed at her.

"I've avenged my father." She felt neither joy nor fear, she was an empty vessel.

"No," Sandor told her. "All you've done is killed yourself."

Meryn pulled out his sword. "We should execute her right now."

"You want to explain to the Queen why you were the one to do it instead of her?" Sandor growled. "Knowing her she won't thank you for it." Still gripping her tight he began dragging her past Ser Meryn. "Come along, you've killed yourself so let's get it over and done with."

She made no effort to resist.

XXX

No time at all was wasted in gathering the court. There were genuine looks of shock and horror on many of the faces. These people had not truly known Joffrey. To just about all of them he had been the handsome and charming son of King Robert. They were not completely certain what Ned Stark had been guilty of, if he had been trying to take the throne for himself or been complicit in some plot with Stannis or Renly. Most believed he had been guilty of something. For them Joffrey was the rightful King and trying to prevent his taking his father's place was treason.

Now their golden prince had been murdered, and by the traitor's daughter, his betrothed. All agreed that it was a black crime and awful tragedy. The deaths and heads on pikes could be forgiven, treason had to be put down. Even the execution of Ned Stark on the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor could be seen in the light of a warning to others possible traitors. If it was a bit harsh it could be understood given the circumstances.

Joffrey would be remembered as the 'King for a Day.' There would be songs and stories mourning his loss and cruel end. In death he would be a greater king than ever he would have been in life.

Cersei was seated on the Iron Throne in a gown of black, her face marred with tears. Sitting on the dais were the members of her Small Council; Varys, Littlefinger, Pycelle, and Slynt. Standing at the foot of the throne was Ser Ilyn Payne.

All alone before them was Sansa Stark. Her hands were bound in rope and she wore nothing but a plain brown shift. On the queen's orders her hair had been cut. Despite this there was still something appealing about her, a fragile beauty that remained despite her circumstances.

Oddly, Petyr Baelish had never thought her more beautiful, or more like her mother.

"You are guilty of murder and regicide." Cersei declared, her voice trembling. There would be no trial. This wretched strumpet would pay for what she had done. "You killed not only your king but your betrothed. Do you deny it?"

"No," Sansa's voice echoed through the hall. "He killed my father and I am glad I killed him."

Murmurs ran through those assembled.

"Your father was a traitor and you are a traitor. I brought you into my home and permitted you to remain betrothed to my son despite your father's crimes. This is how you repay my kindness?"

"He cut off my father's head and made me look at it. What sort of kindness was that?"

Uncomfortable looks passed silently among the audience. The crime was vile, but it was hard to deny the girl had, had reason.

Cersei neither noticed nor cared. "I will not waste any more mercy on you. You are guilty and your life forfeit. Ser Ilyn, carry out the sentence."

"Your grace," Littlefinger spoke in his soft rasp. "While her guilt is undeniable perhaps it would be wise to at least delay the sentence."

Varys nodded in rare agreement. "Rob Stark holds your brother prisoner. There is no telling what might happen if he hears his sister has been executed as well as his father. In such a case prudence is perhaps called for."

Grand Maester Pycelle stroked his long grey beard. "Your grace should not be too hasty in your sorrow. I could send a raven to your father…"

"I do not need my father!" She snapped at the old man. "I am Queen and I will see justice done! Now!"

"But your brother…" Varys began.

"The next person to question me will lose their head." Cersei glanced about, daring anyone to challenge her. Varys quickly lowered his head in submission. The others remained silent.

Cersei gave a satisfied nod. "Ser Ilyn, carry out my command."

The King's Justice bowed his head and drew his blade.

Sansa knelt down and bowed her head without being instructed to do so. She met her end with the stoic dignity one would expect of a Stark.

XXX

Sandor watched the execution in silence. He made no ridiculous attempt to rescue her or try and speak up in her defense. The fool child had been dead the moment she'd given Joffrey that push. He regretted the girl's death, but she was far from the first or last innocent to ever come to a sad end.

He would be leaving King's Landing tonight. For the moment the bitch queen seemed satisfied with Sansa's head. That wouldn't last though. He had been the boy's sworn shield and had been there when the arrogant cunt had died. The boy had never learned that sometimes you could push too far. That was the truth, but he knew it wasn't anything Cersei would want to hear. Before too long she would need someone else to blame for what had happened. He intended to be long gone by then. He'd made quite a bit of gold in service to the Lannisters and the royal family.

Fuck the queen, fuck the Lannisters, and fuck the kingdom. He was getting out while he could.


	2. Some Sort Of Justice

Catelyn wiped her eyes. It surprised her that she still had tears left to shed. They had found out about Ned before arriving at Riverrun. Then not too long after a raven had arrived. Sansa had proven herself a true Stark and had avenged her father, and then suffered the same fate. Anyone would agree that Catelyn had a right to grieve. She was a widow, had suffered the death of her eldest daughter, had witnessed the mangled corpses of far too many brave young men, and knew that her own father's time was drawing to a close. It was hard to remember just how happy she had been just months before. Ned had been at her side and all of her beautiful children had been hale and healthy. The worst burden she'd had to deal with had been seeing Jon Snow every day. She had always imagined that once he was gone from Winterfell she would be truly content.

Oh, how quickly she would return to those days if only she could!

From the moment Robert had arrived in Winterfell her family had been struck by tragedy.

_Was all this really Robert's fault? Or was it mine?_

Her own silent accusation clawed at her heart. What had happened to Bran could be blamed on Robert's visit and on the Lannisters. But the rest? How much of it was her fault? Had she not visited King's Landing? Had she not taken it upon herself to seize the dwarf and seek justice for her son? Would Ned and Sansa still be alive? Would all those boys who were dead on the battlefield? Would Robb, Arya, and her other children be in so much danger now?

_I thought I was protecting Bran. I thought I was seeing justice done._

Tyrion had not been what she had expected, and much of what he had said had made sense. And after Petyr's betrayal she could not trust in what he had told her. The world was a sad place when you had more faith in the Imp than in a childhood friend you had loved like a brother.

She scrubbed at her eyes. Catelyn would grieve when she was alone. Now though she had to be strong. For the sake of the family she had left.

XXX

She found him in the godswood. Robb was standing before the heart tree reading from a piece of parchment. Near him was a small group of men huddled together whispering to one another. They were Theon Greyjoy, Greatjon Umber, Rickard Karstark, Tytos Blackwood, and her uncle Brynden. Seeing her, her uncle came to her side.

"There is news," he told her quietly. "We've had a couple ravens."

Catelyn reached out to get a hold of his arm to steady herself. "Arya? Is she?"

"No, no Cat," he said quickly. "We've had no mention of Arya at all."

"Thank the gods." She shut her eyes. "Ever since the raven that told us of Jon Arryn's death I've come to dread the news they bring."

"Well I can understand that. The tidings we received aren't dreadful, though I am not sure if I should call them fair or foul."

"What is the news then?" Catelyn asked.

She had not spoken as quietly as she had thought, for it was Robb who answered her.

"Two ravens and two pieces of news mother. First is a declaration from Renly Baratheon. He has wed Margaery Tyrell and proclaimed himself king."

"Not Stannis?" Catelyn said in surprise. "Does he support his younger brother's claim?"

"Who knows? We've heard nothing at all from Dragonstone."

"Who cares what Stannis thinks?" Theon said. Since Robb had finally spoken he and the others now approached. "Renly has the support of Highgarden and Storm's End. Stannis can't even muster the loyalty of his own house."

"The Greyjoy has a point," Tytos Blackwood said. "It doesn't matter if Stannis is the older brother if it's Renly who has the numbers."

"So you would have me bend my knee to him?" Robb asked placidly.

Catelyn was struck by how much he reminded her of his father. Even she could not tell if the suggestion pleased or upset him.

"I would have you join the winning side." Tytos said.

"Is that what all this is about?" Robb asked. "Being on the winning side?"

"It's about vengeance," Rickard Karstark declared.

Those words clearly displeased Robb. "I should think justice is the goal, not vengeance."

"So long as both mean killing Lannisters I don't see the difference."

"My lord," Catelyn said. "Robb summoned his banners to rescue his father and defend our smallfolk. The one is forever beyond our reach and the other is done. We ought now to think about the realm and about those who we can still aid."

"And what does that mean my lady?"

Catelyn chose her words carefully. Lord Rickard had lost two sons in the Whispering Wood, both killed by Ser Jaime Lannister. She well understood the pain he was feeling and his need for vengeance. But she still had living children to protect, and that came before all else.

"What I mean to say is that our priority should be the living rather than the dead." Though she addressed Karstark her eyes drifted to her son.

"Then you will be interested in what the second raven brought us." He held out the parchment to his mother. "It was sent by Tywin Lannister."

Her eyes widened. She took the message from him and began to read it. "Does he offer a truce?"

"No," Robb said. "He offers us peace."

Catelyn hurriedly saw that the message was indeed a peace offer, with the terms being quite generous. Robb would be confirmed as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. He and all the lords and men who had served with him would receive full pardon for their actions up until now. All prisoners taken by both sides would be freed. The lands of the North and the Riverlands would be granted a two year exemption on payment of tax and tariff and they would not be called upon to provide troops or supplies. The only requirement was that the Crown be able to move troops and goods through their territory. She was staggered when she read an offer for five hundred thousand gold dragons in recompense for all deaths and injuries caused by the conflict.

But what truly caught her attention was the very last item, one that seemed added almost as an afterthought. It was the specific offer to return Arya Stark to them unharmed.

"Gods be good," Catelyn breathed. "This gives us everything we could hope for."

"I will not accept these terms." Robb said.

"What? But why not? What more could we hope to gain?"

"I won't make peace until I see the head of every Lannister on a pike."

The words they had spoken when they'd received the news of Ned's death came back to her. 'I'll kill them all.' Robb had said. 'We will get the girls back and then we will kill them all.' Was what she had said in return. Much worse than the memory was the sight of every man in the godswood nodding his head in approval, even her uncle.

Robb continued, his right hand tightening about the hilt of his sword. "Tywin says he will acknowledge me as Lord of Winterfell. That's generous of him since I am only Lord now because his grandson took my father's head."

"Do you think I've forgotten that?"

"I think if you kept it in mind you wouldn't be so swift to tell me to make peace."

"He says we should be granted pardon." Blackwood said. "For what crimes? Defending our homes and lands from Ser Gregor and his bandits?"

"Why should we let all our prisoners go when we've taken three or four times as many as they have?" Greatjon asked. "Why would we pay the crown any sort of tribute or lend them aid? He pretends that's generosity, but the truth of it is he can't collect any of it. He is trying to give us what's already ours."

"Aye, but the worst of it is the gold." Lord Karstark growled. "Half a million gold dragons to pay us for all we have suffered. We all know what this money is for. It's a ransom to buy back the kingslayer. Oh, he never mentions his name, but we all know Tywin wouldn't offer a bucket of horseshit for all the folk he's killed. It's his son's life that matters." Karstark turned to Robb's direction. "Only a coward would agree to this."

"Watch your tongue." Greatjon said. The man had questioned Robb's leadership not long ago, but was now completely devoted to his liege lord.

"I speak only the truth."

"I have already said I will not accept these terms. There will be no peace with the Lannisters." Robb said.

Karstark gave a grudging nod while the others looked on in approval.

Catelyn felt as though she were sinking into the earth. "Robb, I want vengeance too. I want to see Cersei and all the others responsible for your father's and Sansa's deaths to pay for their crimes. But think on what we have to lose. Think of all the lives you will save. This peace gives us everything we could ask for."

"Everything but justice."

"And just how much do we have to pay for justice?"

"How much have we already paid?" Karstark demanded. "My two boys are dead! They died fighting the kingslayer. What did they die for if we are going to just hand him back?"

"Lord Rickard I grieve for your loss," Catelyn said to him. "But nothing we do can bring your sons back to you. But if we accept these terms there are many other lives that will be spared."

"Like your daughter's? You would make all that we have suffered be in vain just to get your girl back."

"I do want Arya back. I won't deny that. But I also want to stop the fighting now that we can have peace on good terms."

"Cat," Brynden chided. "You are a good woman and a fine mother, but you don't understand war. There is no point in making a peace that can't last. 'A Lannister always pays his debts.' Lord Tywin is not the sort to forgive or forget a slight. It doesn't matter what terms he offers us now. If he wins this war, if one of his grandchildren sits the Iron Throne, you can be sure he will come looking to settle the accounts one day. Maybe not next year, or the year after, maybe not for five years or ten, but he will come one day. So long as that man lives we will never know real peace. That's why it's better to finish this now, while we hold the hammer."

Catelyn despaired to see everyone including her son nod his head.

"And what of your sister? Will you sacrifice her as well Robb?"

"Arya is already dead." Theon declared.

Catelyn whipped about and stared at him, mouth hanging open and face as pale as the fields beyond the Wall. "How do you know that? Have you received some news none of us have heard?"

"It's what I haven't heard that tells the tale." Theon spread his hands before him. "No one has seen or heard of Arya since Lord Eddard was arrested. They made all sorts of proclamations about him and Sasnsa, but never a word about Arya. If she were alive the court in King's Landing would make sure we knew about it. There are all sort of rumors that she was killed when they tried to take her or that she was tortured to death in a black cell when she refused to acknowledge Joffrey. What we know for sure is that if she were still alive we would know it."

"You know nothing!" Catelyn snapped at him. "The terms from Tywin specifically mention Arya's release to us."

"And would that be the first time Tywin Lannister ever told a lie?" Theon bowed to her. "I am sorry if I must be the one to tell you this harsh truth."

"Arya is alive and I will not believe different until I receive some proof."

"You are her mother. It's only natural for you to hold out hope for her." He looked about the grove. "Does anyone else think so?"

No one spoke. Robb lowered his eyes.

Catelyn stared at him. "Robb? Robb surely you don't believe it do you?"

He was silent for a long while. When he at last spoke it appeared he had come to a decision. "Bring all the lords in camp here come sunset, and bring Jaime Lannister as well."

"Robb what are you going to do?" She took a step towards him and reached out a hand.

"I am sorry mother, but I have much to attend to." He stepped quickly around her and left the godswood as swiftly as he could.

Theon and the others followed after him, while Catelyn could only watch him leave.

XXX

That evening as the sun began to set all the noblemen of the North and Riverlands who were present in Riverrun gathered in the godswood. Hoster Tully was too ill to attend, but his son and heir Edmure was present. They bore witness as the great Jaime Lannister was brought in, a half healed wound across his forehead and both hands tied behind his back.

If he was frightened he gave no sign of it as he stood before Robb and the heart tree.

"You know I've never understood you northerners and your worshipping trees. I will admit though that keeping a grove is a lot cheaper than having to build a sept. Not to mention everything you save on incense and crystals and robes. I mean what expenses do you have? A gardener and some manure?"

Those who worshipped the old gods growled at his blasphemy, while the rest simply looked on.

"Are you sure you want to say such things when the gods are about to judge you?" Robb asked.

"It seems that you're the one judging me. I don't imagine the trees care much one way or the other."

"You can mock all you want, but today is the day you pay for your crimes."

"And what crimes are those? You Starks seem to care an awful lot about honor and justice. As the accused shouldn't I at least know what you are killing me for?"

"You're dying for what you did to my two sons." Rickard Karstark called out.

"Oh, well I apologize for that." He offered a half bow in Lord Rickard's direction. "I wasn't trying to kill them. I was trying to kill Robb here, they just got in the way." His words were met by angry mutters and a couple of his men had to keep Lord Rickard from drawing his sword. "But if that's my crime, killing armed men in battle, you're going to be very busy with executions, including your own."

"Your crime is the attempted murder of my brother, Brandon Stark, when you were a guest in my father's home."

Jaime glanced at Catelyn who was standing near her son. "Funny, I seem to recall Lady Stark making that same accusation of my brother. There was even a trial as I recall. Did you get the two of us confused? I don't blame you if you did, people often have trouble telling us apart."

"Watch your tongue sir."

"Why? Will I get myself into trouble?"

"Do you deny the charge?" Robb asked.

Jaime smiled at him. "I confess… that it's rather convenient that this is the crime you want to execute me for. I don't suppose there is any actual evidence against me? Or is this just the excuse you trot out whenever you want to kill a Lannister?"

"Are you saying you had nothing to do with what happened to Bran?"

"You know I don't think old Ned would be happy to know his son was presiding over such a mockery. He and I had our differences, but he was one of the few men who actually meant it when he talked of honor. Come on boy, why pretend?" He looked about at the crowd that surrounded him. "No one here is going to think the less of you, they all want to see my head separated from my neck. This has nothing to do with any of the crimes I've committed in my life. This is your revenge for your father and sister."

"This is justice."

"If that's really so then give me a trial by combat. Put a sword in my hand. I will fight you or any man you name."

"Was my father given a trial on the steps of the Sept of Baelor? Was my sister given one?"

"Was Joffrey?"

"Joffrey was the one who ordered my father's death. My sister avenged him!"

Jaime looked Robb straight in the eye. "And now you are avenging her. See? Doesn't it feel good to tell the truth? I just wonder which of you my father will kill to avenge me. You Starks really aren't so different from us after all you know. You pay your debts as well."

"We are nothing like you Lannisters."

"You go right on telling yourself that boy. Who knows? Maybe if you tell yourself enough times you'll even come to believe it."

"Enough," Robb motioned to the guards standing behind the prisoner. They forced him to his knees and made him bend. Robb drew his broadsword and stepped to Jaime's side. "If you have any final words I will have them sent to your family."

Jaime smirked. "Just tell them that I loved them, especially my sweet sister."

"I will, you have my word."

"That is such a great comfort." Jaime turned his face to the ground. "Try and make a clean job of it. I would simply hate to be inconvenienced."

Robb held his sword up high. "In the name of Stannis of House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and the Protector of the Realm, by the word of Robb of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North I do sentence you to death."

He brought his sword down, and sliced clean through.

XXX

Having witnessed the execution of the kingslayer the men present departed after speaking a few words to their liege lord. Rickard Karstark made a point to shake Robb's hand and loudly proclaim that he and his would follow him to the end. Theon had slapped his back and told him that his father would have been proud.

As the people departed Catelyn was the last. The body had been removed, all that remained was a pool of blood in the grass. Robb waited for his mother to chide him, to tell him what he had done was wrong.

"You acted in the name of Stannis."

"I did." He was more than a little surprised that she would choose to focus on that.

"I think most of the people would have preferred Renly."

"Stannis has the better claim, my father always did what was right, not what was easiest or most popular. I will never accept Cersei of any of her brood as king or queen. That means I must acknowledge Stannis as my rightful king."

"Renly will see you as an enemy now. That means the armies of the Reach and the Stormlands will view you as an enemy."

"That is not what I want. If Stannis and Renly can come to some sort of an accommodation then we can all concentrate on destroying the Lannisters and restoring peace to the realm."

"If they cannot we will be forced into a much greater war against people who have never done us any wrong."

"So you want to tell me that I made a mistake? That I should have declared for Renly and ignored law and custom?"

He was surprised when his mother shook her head.

"The egg is broken now, there is no mending it." She came to him and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I will do all that I can to support you."

She quietly left.

It was odd, but somehow her words of acceptance left him more concerned than her anger would have.


	3. The Appointment

Tyrion was lying in his tent with Shae beside him. After the shattering defeat at the Whispering Wood and the capture of Jaime, Tywin had been driving his troops as fast as he could to Harrenhal. Being on the march a raven could not reach them. It had taken three days for a rider to find them and deliver the news.

"I never thought he would ever die."

"Your brother?" Shae asked.

Tyrion gently stroked her cheek. "I can remember him as a twelve year old boy with a wooden sword beating boys four or five years older. I never in my life ever saw anyone better on horseback. I've lost count of how many dragons I won betting on him at tourney. Everyone always said he was the finest swordsman in all the realm. I never imagined he could ever be killed. I never worried for him, because I always knew Jaime would come through. Who could ever kill Jaime?"

She stirred and propped herself up on an elbow. Her soft fingers touched his face. "You are crying."

"Sorry, I didn't know the Imp could even shed tears. Tell no one, I should hate to fail their expectations."

"It's all right, you loved your brother."

Maybe the concern in her eyes was just a lie. He had known many whores and understood that the best of them could deceive a man with little effort. Especially a man like him who _wanted_ to believe it. "Jaime was always kind to me. He never treated me like a dwarf, not even when we were children. He always saw me as his little brother. Jaime was the only one who ever treated me as if I were normal. Some of my uncles and cousins and some of the servants treated me well, but always in the same fashion as they would have a pet or some curiosity. When I was with Jaime I was just Tyrion, when I was with anyone else I was the dwarf."

She nodded. "I am glad you had him, and I am sorry for your loss."

He shut his eyes. Is this what it would have been like with Tysha? The simple comfort of a loving wife.

_Fool. Fool. Fool. You're an ugly dwarf. The only affections a woman will ever give you are ones you pay for._

Tyrion sat up and glanced about the tent. "Do we have more wine?"

"You've been drinking all day. Haven't you had enough?"

"I am still conscious, so obviously not."

He was just about to push the blankets aside and go see for himself when the tent flap was pulled open. Bronn stepped inside.

"Glad to see I'm not interrupting."

"You should knock before coming in." Tyrion said.

"How do you knock on canvas?"

"Never mind, help me find a bottle of wine. You can help me commiserate. I'll tell you some exciting tales about my life, some of them might even be true."

"The adventures of Tyrion the Mighty, I look forward to it but it's going to have to wait. Your father has summoned you to his tent."

"Has he called a war council?"

"No, looks like it's just you."

Tyrion shut his eyes and shook his weary head. "Oh fuck me."

XXX

Tywin Lannister had never made any secret of the disdain and contempt in which he held Tyrion. He had always avoided his younger son as much as possible. On those rare occasions when Tyrion had been summoned to his father's presence it had always been due to some transgression. Tyrion had learned to dread private meetings with his father. Nothing good ever came from them. Entering his father's command tent he did not expect that to change.

Within there was an ornately carved long table with just two chairs. His father occupied one at the head of the table. His father motioned to the empty seat to his right.

"Sit." Tywin commanded, as he might have to one of his dogs.

Tyrion waddled over to the table, deliberately exaggerating his stride. His father watched in silence as he climbed into the chair.

There was pitcher and a single goblet. Tyrion couldn't tell how much wine remained in the pitcher, but he noted that the goblet was nearly empty. His father's cheeks were unusually dark and his eyes red. Was it possible the mighty Tywin had been drinking to console himself just as he had? Tyrion couldn't picture it. His father was never one for vulgar displays or showing any sort of human weakness. Father did not drink, whore, gamble, laugh, smile, or cry. The only emotion he ever seemed content to display was anger. Most of the time he was simply cold and calculating.

Tyrion expected to receive a lecture about some transgression. To be reminded what a fool he was for allowing Catelyn Stark to take him unawares or for consorting openly with whores and sellswords. His father never tired of telling him about how he was shaming the Lannister name.

But to Tyrion's surprise Tywin simply sat there looking at him. The expression on his father's face was one he'd never seen before. Anger? Melancholy? Frustration? Resignation? Tyrion thought he saw all of them there. He couldn't really blame the old man if he was in his cups and having trouble dealing with things. His father had always seen himself in Jaime, and had loved both him and his sister more than anything else.

"The gods," Tywin finally spoke. "Are cruel and play jests on all of us, great and small."

"You don't say?" Tyrion managed to keep a straight face. "Thank you for the revelation father."

"Spare me your clever retorts." He picked up his goblet and quickly emptied it. Setting it down he refilled it. "Everything I have done has been for the sake of the family name and for my children, everything. I have devoted my life to making our house strong so that when I am gone the name would live on long after me."

"Some of your children meant more to you than others."

"And what father would love a stunted dwarf as much as his true son or daughter?"

_I am as much your true son as Jaime was_. Tyrion managed not to let the retort escape his lips. He knew that to every father a dwarf was a bastard, saying so now would not help things.

Tywin continued. "When Robert died all my efforts should have borne fruit. My daughter would have been queen regent, helping to counsel and guide her son. With Joffrey sitting the Iron Throne Jaime would have long last been released from his oath and been free to marry and claim Casterly Rock as my heir."

"Jaime would never have agreed to that."

"He would have put up some stupid argument, but he would have done his duty as a Lannister. I'd have seen to that."

_You'd have tried. _Tyrion had known just how seriously Jaime had taken his oath to serve in the Kingsguard. He had also known of the _special _ties between Jaime and Cersei. The last thing his brother had wanted was to marry some girl and return to Casterly Rock. "And what plans did you have for me father?"

"Once I was gone you would have received more than enough gold in your inheritance to let you drink and whore your way to an early grave."

"Very generous of you." Gold and pride were the two things his family had in abundance. To his father a large sum of gold was the absolute bare minimum he was entitled to. What was telling was the fact he would not be given any lands or titles. Tyrion had no doubt that his father hoped he would simply die one day without any children and be forgotten forever. Yet he was sure that to his father's way of thinking that was being generous.

"My efforts and plans should have been rewarded. I should have gone to my grave secure in the knowledge my family was prosperous and strong." He took a sip of his wine. "Instead, everything I have struggled for has turned to ashes. Joffrey dead, Jaime dead, the North, the Riverlands, the Reach, and the Stormlands all risen up against us; our house is in danger of extinction. And all because of the stupidity of my children and grandchildren."

Tywin shook his head.

"Killing Ned Stark, dismissing Barristan Selmy, appointing Clegane to take his place, making that butcher Slynt not just a lord but the lord of Harrenhal, and then executing the Stark girl, one piece of madness after another. It almost reminds me of the Targaryens."

_More than you realize, Joffrey had the makings of another Aerys_. His father had spent precious little time at court and had not really known what Jof was. While Tyrion would never admit to it he'd been relieved when he'd heard the news his nephew was dead.

There seemed to be a distressing number of things Tyrion could not say out loud.

"Killing Lord Eddard and Sansa Stark were the worst mistakes." Tywin kept speaking. "The first guaranteed the North would rise, and the second was an invitation for Robb Stark to kill my son. I understood that immediately, that's why I offered them the terms I did. Had Jaime not been prisoner you can be certain my terms would have been harsher. If they had accepted…" Tywin paused, his eyes lost focus for a moment. Perhaps he was imagining Jaime's returning to him, a bit humbled but alive and well. "But they didn't, and we must deal what is and not what we would wish to be."

"Well I would agree with you that things are dire, but just what would you like me to do about it? Was there some reason you called me here?"

Tywin's full attention returned to him. "Your sister sent me a message. In the name of King Tommen she has ordered me to bring my army to King's Landing and to serve as Hand of the King. She does not request, she commands."

Tyrion knew just how miserable and frustrated Cersei had been in her role as Robert's queen. She had always lusted for real power, now that she finally had some she was obviously letting it go to her head. Cersei was a greater fool than Tyrion had ever imagined if she believed she could give father orders.

"I don't pretend to be a military strategist, but what good would taking the army to King's Landing do?"

"It would make her and our new king feel a little safer, that's all. Which is why for the time being we will remain here. I have sent Ser Gregor and his riders raiding along the Trident and am raising a new host in Lannisport to make up for the army we lost at Riverrun. I must keep Renly and the northmen from joining hands or we will be in even greater peril."

"The reports say Robb Stark has declared for Stannis. Will Renly want to fight beside him?"

"Stannis and Renly may end fighting one another, that doesn't mean they won't set aside their differences until they've dealt with us. In any case you can leave the strategies to me, I have something else in mind for you."

"Oh good, so there was an actual reason you called me here?"

"You and fifty guards will set out for King's Landing come the morning."

Both of Tyrion's eyebrows jumped up. If his father had made him a general he would not have been more surprised. "And what am I to do there?"

"Rule. I intend you to be King's Hand in my stead. The situation is too dangerous to allow any more stupidity from Cersei and her fool court."

"You think Cersei or anyone else will take orders from me?"

"Leave Cersei to me. Along with a proclamation naming you Hand I'll give you a letter to give my daughter. I am going to explain the situation to her very clearly."

"Coming from you she might actually listen." Tyrion paused. "Why me though? Why not Uncle Kevan or someone else?"

Tywin's hands clenched. "Because you are my son, and my heir."

Tyrion's jaw fell and he gaped like a fish on a hook. His father had never once acknowledge him as his son, never mind heir. He suspected his father never would have so long as Jaime were alive, even if he kept his white cloak.

"Well? No words of gratitude? I am giving you Casterly Rock. Can you at least pretend to be thankful?"

"I… I thank you father. I truly thank you." It was the first time he'd ever spoken those words to him and meant it.

Tywin gave a slight nod. "Listen to me well Tyrion. Up until now I have tolerated your behavior because you were the family embarrassment. I accepted the disgrace because I knew there was no point trying to redeem you. But all that has changed now, you are my heir and one day you will be Lord of Casterly Rock, assuming we don't all get slaughtered in this war. Everything you do reflects on our family. If you play the fool everyone in the Seven Kingdoms will see our house in that light. Do you understand?"

"Yes father." Having just been given his life's ambition Tyrion found it much easier to be polite.

"No more whoring or gambling or drinking with thieves. A second son might be able to get away with it but not the family heir. From this point on I expect you to behave like a true Lannister. Is that clear?"

"Yes father."

"And if you find it impossible to master your baser instincts at least limit your behavior to places where no one can see you."

"Are you saying I can be a drunken lust filled beast so long as I do it discreetly?"

"I am saying try to avoid bringing any more disgrace on the family name." He picked up his goblet and took a drink. "Now go, I want you to be ready to leave early in the morning."

XXX

When he returned to his tent Shae was awake, waiting for him.

"Is everything all right?"

He strode over to her and gave her a kiss. "Just fine. I mean to bring you to court my sweetling."


	4. Hand Of The King

Arya was staring up into the night sky.

All around her the others were sleeping. Gendry, Hot Pie, Lommy, and the rest were spread out on the grass lying on rough woolen blankets. After the gold cloaks came looking for Gendry, Yoren had taken them off of the Kingsroad. They were heading up towards Gods Eye using the trails and back roads. Yoren kept away from the villages and towns, they hadn't even gotten to stop at an Inn again. The few people they spotted on the road kept clear and tried to get past them as quick as they could. There were fewer refugees and fresh dug graves here, but there was no mistaking that the land was at war.

She had asked Gendry why the gold cloaks were after him. He pretended not to know. That had to be a lie of course, how could you have a queen wanting to arrest you and not know why? Arya didn't hold that against him. She kept her secret from him and everyone else. Some things you had to keep a secret no matter what.

Since they had gone off the main road they hadn't heard any of what was going on. Arya hoped that Sansa was safe. Despite calling her horseface and always making fun of her needle work she prayed that her sister remained unharmed. She'd heard that Robb had won a great victory at Riverrun and taken the Kingslayer prisoner. Some said his army was marching on King's Landing and that all the Lannister soldiers had been killed or sent running. Tywin Lannister was supposed to be fleeing back to Casterly Rock with just a handful of retainers. Arya hoped Robb was hurrying to the capital as fast as he could to put Joffrey and Cersei and every other Lannister's head on a pike and rescue Sansa.

Arya wanted to see Robb again, and Sansa and her mother and Bran and Rickon. She wanted to go home to Winterfell. She wanted to go to The Wall and hug Jon as he hugged her back. And though she knew it was impossible she wanted to see her father again.

Arya shut her eyes and tried to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be another long day.

XXX

By the time Tyrion arrived at the Gate of the Gods he was certain of two things. One that the situation was even worse than he'd expected, and two, that so long as his sister remained in charge they would not get any better.

The journey here had been slowed by all the refugees who were clogging the Kingsroad. Shagga had suggested cutting off a few heads as a way of getting the way clear. Bronn and even Ser Preston who was in command of his guard agreed. Tyrion had decided against killing ordinary folk who were just trying to find some safe place. His family's reputation was quite black enough already without adding to the list of crimes.

So instead he and his procession were delayed a couple of days. Along the way they had crossed paths with a force of thirty or so gold cloaks. Tyrion had inquired what they were doing so far from home. The officer in charge had told him they had two arrest warrants and were looking for a boy by the name of Gendry and for the former Kingsguard Sandor Clegane. The man couldn't tell him what crime this Gendry had committed that demanded so much effort to see him brought to justice. The officer had been more than happy to share the fact that the Hound had been accused of treason and in aiding Sansa Stark in her murder of their beloved king. He was to be returned to King's Landing to answer for his crimes.

Tyrion was certain the Hound was innocent. Not because Sandor had loved Joffrey, Tyrion was fairly certain the Hound had loathed his nephew. But rather because if Sandor were part of a plot Jof would have had a hunting accident or his throat cut in the middle of the night. Clegane was a sour and unpleasant man, but when it came to killing he was very competent. He would never have killed Joffrey in such a spectacular way.

Tyrion tried to order the gold cloaks back to the city. With everything going on there were more important things to deal with than some unknown boy and a former retainer Cersei wanted to kill out of spite. Their commander told him in a very haughty tone that they had their orders from the Queen and that wouldn't obey the Imp.

"What's your name?" Tyrion asked in a friendly manner.

"Allar Deem."

"I promise I will remember it."

Tyrion entered the city with fifty Lannister soldiers, two hundred mountain tribesmen, Bronn, and a small number of servants that included Shae. The guardsmen manning the gate had not been sure what to make of them. They might well have tried to deny them entry had it not been for the Lannister banners they carried. Though he had not been gone all that long Tyrion immediately noticed how much more crowded the streets were. There looked to be squatters in every alley they passed. And most of them were not men, what he mostly saw were old folk, women, and children.

Just how were they going to feed all these people?

On the way to the Red Keep they were crossing through the plaza beneath the great Sept of Baelor. There were at least three dozen masons hard at work laying bricks in the middle of it. Curious Tyrion brought his horse over to one of the men and asked him what they were doing.

"Building a foundation for a statue my lord."

"Whose statue?"

"King Joffrey's my lord." The mason answered, never stopping his labors. "The queen's ordered that he have a statue as big as Baelor's and it'll be all made out of gold too."

Baelor had been the most beloved of all the Targaryen kings. The smallfolk and the faithful had adored him. Tyrion had thought him rather befuddled, but he had at least built the Great Sept and ruled peacefully for ten years. His statue was of polished bronze and stood twenty feet high, it was far and away the largest statue in all of Westeros. The idea that a boy king who had ruled for all of a day, and whose greatest accomplishment was taking Ned Stark's head and starting a war, deserved such a monument was laughable.

"Do you have any idea how much gold a statue that size would take? It would bankrupt the whole realm."

The mason managed to shrug as he kept laying brick. "Aint my concern my lord."

"Don't you think your efforts might be better suited to strengthening the gates?"

"It's the queen's orders my lord."

"Of course it is," Tyrion mumbled. "Yet another of my sister's brilliant schemes. By the way, does she also plan to build a little altar in front of the statue? So that people can sacrifice puppies and other small animals?"

The man stopped and gaped, clearly having no idea how to answer.

"Never mind my good man. I am sure our beloved queen will have it built later."

XXX

When Tyrion at last arrived at the Red Keep he dearly treasured the looks of dismay and revulsion people aimed at the tribesmen. The looks of fear were even better. People had never looked at him that way. He had seen such looks directed at his father and Jaime some times. His father had always said that fear was the most genuine form of respect.

Deciding that walking through the halls with two hundred and fifty armed men might be a bit much Tyrion decided to bring Bronn, Shagga, Ser Preston and twenty Lannister men with him. It was enough to be thoroughly intimidating while not seeming to be an invasion.

He soon learned his sister was meeting with the Small Council. As he and his company approached the door to its chamber there was a solitary figure waiting outside dressed up in white cloak and armor. Tyrion was startled when he recognized who it was.

"Lancel? Is that you?"

"Cousin," Lancel replied trying to sound stern. His right hand was gripping the hilt of his sword as his eyes were darting about. "What are you doing here? And who are these men?"

"I am here to see my sweet sister and these men are just here to keep me safe."

"No need to be so scared." Bronn said. "We didn't come here to get blood all over your pretty white cloak."

"I am not scared!"

Bronn sneered. "Yes you are."

"When did you become a member of the Kingsguard?" Tyrion asked. "Does your father know? He certainly didn't when I set out."

Lancel straightened his back and lifted his chin. "His grace personally anointed me a knight and then named me as one of his seven."

"I had no idea Tommen was so fond of you."

"After what happened to our beloved King Joffrey the Queen Regent wanted someone on whom she could absolutely rely."

Tyrion nodded. "I am sure the king's enemies from Dorne to the Wall are quaking in fear knowing they have to face you. I must say you certainly have improved your station. The last time I saw you King Robert was throwing a boot at your head and screaming for you to get him more wine."

Lancel's cheeks flushed. "I was the king's squire and did as I was bid."

"And you did your duties very well. I never saw anyone better at pouring wine, truly. I can understand why my sister promoted you to the Kingsguard. So few know how to handle a pitcher."

Lancel's grip on his hilt tightened. "Would you like me to show you my skill with a sword?"

"Oh no need, Jaime watched you practice a few times. How did he put it? 'Exceedingly mediocre' I believe. Now that my brother and Selmy are gone I think you should fit in perfectly."

"The queen knows my value."

"Oh, I am sure she does." Tyrion leaned forward and made a show of sniffing him.

"What are you doing?"

"Are you wearing lavender oil? It's rather a nice scent, reminds me of a Summer Isle girl I used to fuck."

"I… it was a gift from the queen."

"Like your knighthood and white cloak?"

"Watch your tongue, I will not take any insults."

"After your time with Robert I would expect you'd be used to them by now. I see you have cut your hair, and that you are wearing it as Jaime used to." Tyrion shook his head. "So has she tried to have you mimic him in certain other areas?"

Lancel looked about. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do, but don't worry I won't interfere. Having to deal with you should be punishment enough on my dear sweet sister. Now if you will excuse me I have a meeting to attend."

"You are not permitted…"

Tyrion ignored him and walked past. Bronn and the others followed his example as a baffled Lancel stood there not knowing what to do.

When Tyrion opened the doors to the Small Council Chamber the discussion abruptly cut off. They all turned to stare as Tyrion strode in followed by Bronn, Shagga, Ser Preston and the Lannister men at arms.

"No need to get up." Tyrion told them as he approached his sister.

Littlefinger, Varys, Pycelle, and Slynt all remained seated. Their eyes fixed not on the dwarf but on all the armed men following behind him. After the recent events they all had to feel a bit nervous. One could go from being powerful to being a head on a pike very quickly.

Cersei glared at her younger brother. She was in a black gown and seated at the head of the table. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you here? Where is father?"

"Read these, they should answer everything." Tyrion held out a scroll and a letter. Both sealed with their father's stamp. Cersei snatched them from his hand. "Please don't tear them up. I hear you have a bad habit of ripping up important documents."

"Pieces of paper don't mean anything."

"They do depending who wrote them."

Her mouth twisted but she did not reply. Cersei opened the scroll and began reading it. Halfway through Tyrion saw her eyes widen. "What nonsense is this?" She flung the scroll down on the table. "Why would father name you to serve as Hand?"

_Because with Jaime gone he has actually decided to acknowledge me. _Tyrion didn't say that. Cersei would never believe it and given what was in the letter it wasn't actually necessary. "I suppose it's a sign of the faith he has in me."

"Father wouldn't trust you to run a brothel never mind the entire realm! Tommen named father to be Hand of the King and to bring his army here. When will he arrive?"

"He isn't coming sweet sister, neither him nor his army. He has better uses for it than making you and my nephew feel safe."

"He cannot refuse, it was a royal command."

"And yet he has." He saw her open her mouth to argue. Tyrion just pointed to the letter that was still in her hand. "Read that and I think you will clearly understand the situation."

Cersei's mouth snapped shut. She broke open the wax seal and began to read.

Tyrion saw her eyes widen and her face grow noticeably paler. Once she had finished she read it a second time, as if to be sure the words were really there. The members of her council began casting uncertain looks at one another. All of them knew Tyrion as a drunkard, a gambler, and a whore monger. He was important only due to who he was related to. No one had ever taken him seriously.

When Cersei was at last done she slowly crumpled the letter in her hands. Her arms were trembling. "This is a lie, father could not mean it."

"Send a raven to Harrenhal if you want confirmation, but if you try and ignore father's words like you did Ned Stark's you will be the one to regret it."

"Why?" She demanded. "Why would father do this to me?"

"Because every decision you have made since Robert's death has been utter folly. If you are allowed to make any more of them it may lead to our ruin."

"It is because of me that our family rules this country!"

"And it's also because of you that Jaime is dead now."

Cersei leapt to her feet. Her arm lashed out and struck him across the face hard enough to knock him down.

Bronn and others put hands on weapons and everyone tensed to see what would happen next.

Tyrion slowly got back to his feet and rubbed his cheek. "You are as gentle and ladylike as ever dear sister."

"Don't ever say that what happened to Jaime was my fault. Do you hear me?"

Tyrion stared up at her. "Do you acknowledge me as Hand of the King?"

Cersei glared at him hatefully. "Yes."

"And will you obey all my commands?"

"A Queen does not obey!" She snapped.

"Shall I tell father that is your answer then?"

Cersei hesitated. "I am willing to listen to your suggestions if they make sense."

"Father didn't send me here to advise sweet sister, he sent me here to rule." This was the moment that would decide whether or not he had any real power here. Everyone who was watching was judging him. "Either acknowledge my authority and agree to support me in all things or I write to our father you mean to defy him."

He saw her right hand twitch. No doubt her impulse was to slap him again. Tyrion had a very little bit of sympathy for her. She had spent all those years with Robert being frustrated. Then she had finally been freed of him and enjoyed real power. It had to be very bitter to have it snatched away again.

But that tiny bit of sympathy couldn't compare with the simple pleasure of seeing his vain, cruel, and vindictive sister being forced to acknowledge his power over her.

"Since father has entrusted you with the post of Hand, I will support you. Until father arrives to take the position."

Not quite a ringing endorsement but it would do.

"Good, so glad to know we are on the same side." Tyrion turned to the council members. "Well then, first order of business. Lord Baelish, you are under arrest. Ser Preston put him in a black cell."

Preston motioned and a couple of his men moved to obey.

"This is an outrage, what are the charges?" Littlefinger demanded.

"Treason and conspiracy should do for now."

As he two soldiers took hold of him Petyr Baelish made no effort to resist. "My Lord Hand whatever you may have heard I have always been loyal to the crown."

"Yes, when I think of you loyalty is the first word that pops into my mind."

He waited until Lord Baelish had been removed.

"Lord Slynt?"

The Lord Commander of the City Watch stiffened in his seat. His eyes jumping from Tyrion to the soldiers standing behind him.

"As you may know my father and his soldiers are currently located in Harrenhal, your new seat. My father is a very busy man, trying to organize the army and plan a successful campaign wears heavily on him. He would be greatly relieved if you were to take possession of your new seat and take charge of the castle itself."

Tyrion could see the man let out a breath and relax in his seat. No doubt he'd feared the same treatment Littlefinger had just received. "I would of course be only too happy to claim my new lands. Alas I am needed here."

"Your devotion to duty warms my heart. You wish only to serve the crown, that is correct isn't it?"

"It is my Lord Hand."

"You can best serve in Harrenhal. I am sure I can find someone to take over your duties here. But you are the rightful lord and the only one to take charge there."

Slynt considered that, and slowly nodded. "If that is where I am needed I will go. I admit the idea of seeing my castle for the first time is not unpleasant."

Tyrion nodded. Slynt would see the castle but would never rule. His father would make that clear the moment the fool arrived. Slynt had served the family well in the matter of the succession. The Lannisters would pay the debt, the man would be allowed to keep his lordship. Some vacant lands in the west had been set aside for him. Harrenhal though was far too valuable a prize to waste on a common butcher. "You should prepare my lord, you will want to depart as soon as possible."

With a respectful bow Slynt made his way out.

"Grand Maester Pycelle, Lord Varys, I look forward to working closely with both of you and count myself lucky to have such wise counsellors to advise me. If you would not mind I would like the chance to catch up with my dear sister."

Both of them stood and politely departed.

Tyrion then dismissed his men. He and Cersei were soon alone.

"Do you feel big now?" Cersei asked.

"Slightly, maybe an inch or two."

"Why did you arrest Littlefinger? If not for him Ned Stark might have seized the throne."

"Let's just say he has been less helpful to me than to you. I intend to ask him some questions, and I think a few nights in a black cell will make him think harder about his answers."

"Do you intend to execute him?"

"I haven't decided yet. Depends on his answers."

Cersei waved the whole matter away. "Do you know what father wrote in his letter?"

"Yes, he informed me before I set out."

She continued as if he had not spoken. "He threatened to have me married to a Dornish lord and then sent to live with him! In Dorne! What is father thinking? The Martells loathe us, they have never forgiven our family for the murder of Princess Elia and her children. If I were trapped there I wouldn't survive a year."

"Father knows all that, that's what made it such an effective threat."

"How could father turn on me? His only daughter."

"Oh it wasn't so hard, you have no idea how furious he was with you after Jaime was killed. If you weren't his own blood I think he would have had you executed."

"How can father blame me? Do you think I wanted Jaime to be killed? I loved him!"

"Yes, often and in all sorts of ways."

Cersei glared at him murderously.

"Oh don't bother to try and pretend how virtuous you are. I've known about you and Jaime fucking for years. I'll keep your secret. I may loathe you but I am fond of Tommen and Myrcella, I won't do anything to hurt them."

"I suppose I should thank you for at least that much. If you know just how much I loved him then you also know I would never have harmed him."

"Yet you as good as killed him when you had Sansa Stark beheaded."

"She murdered Joffrey! How could I have spared her?"

"No one is saying the girl needed to be spared, but you could have delayed the execution and put her in a cell. Knowing what the girl's fate would be the Starks might have worked out an exchange with us. At the very least by keeping her alive it would have forced them to spare Jaime. Your killing the girl was an invitation for Robb Stark to take revenge."

"I never believed he would dare."

"What did you think he would do? Throw a garland of roses on Jaime's head and let him go?"

"I expected him to fear our family's revenge."

"We are at war and we've already taken his father's head. If you expect the Starks to cower in fear of us you had best think again. Do you understand we are losing this war? And we have not even yet to face the Baratheon forces."

"I know things are dangerous, why do you think I summoned father and his army here? Father should not be cross with me, I am his precious daughter."

From the time Cersei had been fifteen and started to blossom she had been able to charm and bend almost any man to her will. So far as Tyrion knew there were only three men in all the realm who had been immune to her beauty and sweet words. Sadly for her they had been himself, their father, and Robert Baratheon. Cersei always assumed that she would always be able to get anything she wanted from a man. She always resented when that failed to occur, as if every man's devotion were her birth right.

"Precious daughter or no, understand that father is quite sincere about banishing you to Dorne if you interfere in any way. Give up all notions of ruling, be satisfied with being a mother to your two children."

"Because being a wife and mother is all I am good for? Because a woman cannot be fit to rule?"

Tyrion thought of Catelyn Stark. A strong woman and as different from Cersei as day was from night. Despite their differences he respected her and could see her acting as a fair and just ruler.

"No, because _you_ are not fit to rule."

"Things will change. Father will forgive me and when that day comes you had best be careful." Cersei stormed out of the room.

"Yes," Tyrion said to the empty chamber. "Just as soon as Jaime comes back to life."


End file.
